Drenched
by Stephane Richer
Summary: Kise gets to the ball and now the rain is coming down so hard they can barely see each other, faces thirty centimeters apart.


Drenched

Disclaimer: Don't own

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It's kind of a shitty day, way too cold for July. This is April weather at best, with the grey-white skies and bitter winds. He almost expects snow to start falling, but of course there's only a few raindrops on occasion-the sky is so saturated with water, but it does not relieve itself, choosing instead to be greedy and take all the moisture until thie air is strangely dry. Perhaps that's what makes it feel cooler, the lack of humidity. But Aomine's not a weather man. He doesn't really care, truthfully, and thinking this much is giving him a headache. He'd really like to go back to sleep, but now the headache is growing, pressing at his temples like a sledgehammer. Even lying completely still doesn't do anything, and perhaps haivng nothing to distract the rest of his body, no movement or feeling, makes it hurt worse.

He sighs and sits up on the edge of the bed. His shirt is rumpled, his hair even worse-as he rubs it, he can feel the cowlicks and he doesn't even bother to flatten them. He's not really one to be too concerned with appearances, after all. He stands up and feels a wave of vertigo hit him but gradually adjusts. Fuck, this headache is annoying.

The kitchen is deserted, a half-empty glass of warm water on the table from last night. He fills it to the top with water from the faucet and rummages through the cabinet for some ibuprofen. He rattles the container, three sugar-coated pink pills dropping into his palm silently. He shoves them in his mouth, then drinks the whole glass of water. He hates swallowing pills but this time he manages it. While he's waiting for the pills to kick in, he sits down at the table, head in hand. He flexes his other hand against the table, opening, closing. His nails are getting too long, so he bites the ends off one by one. Kise always scolds him about how much of a nasty habit it is, but fuck that. Models can use their fancy nail clippers and manicures and whatever the hell else they want. Who's going to be looking at Aomine's nails, anyway?

("I will be," Kise whines.

"It's not my nails you should be looking at," Aomine retorts, and they end up having sex on the kitchen table which proves Aomine's point, although Kise refuses to verbally concede.)

Speaking of Kise, where the hell is he? Aomine checks the wall calendar, where Kise writes all of his scheduled jobs and other things, most of which Aomine pretends not to care about. Today is blank. He's been out since before Aomine woke up, and he hasn't left a note. Maybe he texted? Aomine checks his phone. Nothing. He sets his hand down on the table again, phone still clutched, and closes his eyes. The ibuprofen is kicking in now, and he sees with more clarity and can think about much more than his aching head. Suddenly, the phone vibrates and he drops it several centimeters and it lands on the wooden table. It doesn't crack, just sits there with the screen lit up. "One on one?" from Kise.

No mention of a location, so he's got to be in the park a few blocks away from their apartment. "Do you have a basketball?" Aomine types back. He looks under the table for his sneakers and jams them on. He's tying them when the phone vibrates again, and when he glances at it he sees an affirmative reply. He grabs the phone and his keys and locks the door behind him.

It's drizzling again, outside, rain glancing off his head and arms but not too bad. It still hasn't warmed up, which means it probably won't at all today, but if they're running around playing basketball they won't notice.

Kise's playing by himself when Aomine arrives, dribbling past phantom defenders and faking passes to invisible teammates. Eventually, he gets almost right under the hoop and shoots the ball straight up. It decides to fall about half a meter above the backboard, and falls into the front of the hoop and bounces out and back in again. It's raining harder, the sound changing from normal to something resembling a snare drum, muffling the noises of the passing cars and birds and music coming from someone's radio in the window. It's just the rain and the bouncing basketball, and Aomine lunges at Kise to try and steal but Kise goes around him and into a jump shot, which Aomine blocks, but before either of them can try to get possession, the rain starts coming down even harder. Kise gets to the ball and now the rain is coming down so hard they can barely see each other, faces thirty centimeters apart.

Aomine scowls. He's already soaked, and Kise definitely is, too. And now they can't play basketball. They can't even fucking go anywhere, because the rain is too dense to see through and they'll bump into fences and trip over things they can't see. With both hands, he reaches out and grabs Kise's face, resulting in a squeak of surprise from Kise. His hands trace over Kise's body, slowly, pressing slick against the wet fabric of his cotton t-shirt. Kise's breath hitches several times. This will never, ever get old for either of them. Aomine will never tire of the contours of Kise's torso, every bit of muscle and bone and skin. The shirt sticks to his skin, and Aomine scowls harder. Damn. If only there was a way to just get it off…

Kise senses Aomine's impatience and kisses him on the neck, and ahh fuck that feels good. As much pleasure as Aomine derives from exploring and looking at Kise's body, when Kise does it to him it's even better. Kise's lips are full and soft and cold, and the one dry spot on Aomine's body where his chin hangs over his neck is soon soaked to the bone from Kise's wet face and tongue and teeth. Aomine's fingers continue to struggle with Kise's t-shirt and he just gives up completely in favour of slipping them down Kise's shorts and squeezing his ass.

Kise has a really nice ass, and if Aomine has to pick one physical feature of Kise's that he likes the most that would be it, definitely. It's so firm and round and tight and…

Kise pulls away suddenly, and Aomine's hands freeze. Kise tugs them out of his shorts. His face is red and he looks wanton and so, so pretty. If Kise's ass is his best physical feature, then this look is the second-best, and Aomine struggles against Kise's arms and tries to push back.

"The rain is stopping."

Indeed, it's brightened up considerably, the clouds shining a whiter shade of grey, and the rain falls thinly. They can see one another very clearly, and they can see the basketball hoops and the road and the building across the street. "So?" Aomine asks, because if it's a choice right now between basketball and sex he's obviously going to pick sex.

A teenage girl walks by under an umbrella and gives them a weird look. They are standing in the middle of the court, totally drenched, looking like total hot messes. Yeah, that would just about do it.

And then the rain starts to fall faster again and the skies darken up. Kise tugs at Aomine's hand and starts to run, and Aomine blindly follows. The rain hasn't completely obscured their vision yet; they can still see the traffic lights and they cross the street and make their way to their apartment building. The drenched key makes an odd sort of squelching sound in the door, but it still works and Kise looks so fine with water dripping off his hair that Aomine can't help but basically attack him in the elevator, and they miss their floor and the elevator goes back down again and they don't even notice for ten minutes (luckily, no one else needs the elevator).

They're still totally soaked and dripping when they come in, trailing water all over the floor of the foyer and the living room and they make it halfway to the couch before Kise's rubbing himself all over Aomine trying to get himself off now, now, now, and they collapse on the floor, grinding and moaning and hands and feet all over, the goal form both of them to have the most skin touching hot skin. They roll around and tug at the wet fabric still clinging to them both, managing to get their shorts halfway down and the front of Aomine's shirt pulled up. The wood makes their knees and elbows creak and ache, but the adrenaline in their veins blocks out the pain soon enough and besides, they're more focused on each other. Aomine's on top of Kise, the skin on his abdomen rubbing roughly against Kise's t-shirt until Aomine slides down lower and admires Kise's ass now that it's right in front of his face but there's no time for that because Kise himself grabs Aomine's hand and pulls it upward, and Aomine's only too happy to comply with the request. He stretches Kise out and pounds into him and collapses on top of him as Kise, who had been propping himself out, spasms and falls to the floor, rolling halfway over onto his side.

Aomine flops next to him, letting Kise spoon him. Kise's hands, mostly dry by now, feel very good against his bare stomach and even better under his own hands. Kise places his head in the crook of Aomine's neck and kisses his jaw lightly. Aomine relaxes, drifting into a sort of semi-sleep stage, and wonders if it's still raining outside.


End file.
